


Hold My Eyes

by blanket_shades_spice



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:29:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanket_shades_spice/pseuds/blanket_shades_spice





	Hold My Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John meets a mysterious stranger.

Rain had always peaked the young women's hatred for narrow sidewalks- or just sidewalks in general. As a little girl she had twirled around in the warm, thick drops of water and imagined they were tears of the clouds above her head. Always sad tears, they were, but they were to remind her to be happy. With little to no sidewalk to twirl on, the tears weren’t quite the same. The tears were more of those from one's mother that they thought had no reason to cry, but was grieving anyway.

On the particular day that she met her special stranger, she was walking on a narrow sidewalk, in the rain. Maybe the small sidewalk was a foreshadowing of future tears to come, but that is not what one thinks when they wish to be twirling.

The streets ran with rivers of softened water gathering in the middle and collecting in the small nooks in the road. Her hair was strung with beads of water but she let her umbrella stay in her rather large coat pocket. The girl's destination was simple- 221B Baker Street. Though she had traveled many a time through the crossing and weaving roads of London, she had no idea where she was.The brunette had taken a taxi from the airport and been dropped off on Glentworth Street so that she could walk the rest of the way. To her dismay, she had mistaken the street to be intersecting with Baker Street.

The cold was hugging the slim figure's sides and flowing through her veins. It was getting dark, and the street lamps started to dimly glow through the darkened haze of fog. The light reflected off the wet windows of the buildings aligning the strip of road. She could barely see that the buildings had recently been stripped of their outer layer of wood and been painted over in varying shades of green. As the she looked at the oddly shaded houses, she stumbled into a figure. The cold girl adjusted herself to look up into their eyes but found their pupils were only a few centimeters above her own. She immediately felt the need to apologize.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I’m an absolute klutz! I am so sorry… I really am dreadful…”  She had no idea why She had apologized so profusely, but the man’s sad eyes made her feel slightly more sentimental for stepping on his feet.

“Ah! No! I’m sorry? You’re sorry? No it’s fine, don’t be sorry." The man stumbled on his words. "It happens all the time.” He flashed the young woman a charming grin. “I doubt you’re as much as a klutz as I am. I once scared my landlady half to death when she heard me trip over my own feet upstairs in my flat!” he ruffled his blond hair with his right hand, which she noted. He looked down at her flimsy windbreaker over the burgundy jumper adorning her shivering body.“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” The confused lady looked down to see a splash of tea covering it. How had She not noticed it before? The man was holding a now empty thermos.

“Oh, this old thing… it should’ve been in my trash bin years ago,” she fingered the thick fabric wistfully. The jumper was obviously more important to her than she lead on.

“I still feel bad. You should get cleaned up. Where are you headed?” He pulled his black, leather shouldered jacket father over his shoulders. The now soaked-in-tea girl debated whether or not to tell him, even though he was obviously harmless.

“221b Baker Street.” He looked at her with widened eyes that soon narrowed. Easily suspicious, the girl also noted.

“Oh! I was just headed there myself... A close friend lives there.” He was confused, and the girl wasn’t.

Why would such a seemingly bright young woman need a detective? And why Sherlock Holmes? The most antisocial man to ever live, as well as the only man to be so excitable by murders?

“Great! You can show me the way, John!” The girl interupted the man mid thought and nodded toward the barren street.

“Did I tell you my name?” 'John' narrowed his eyes once again at the girl. Oops, she thought, and winced internally. Luckily, he wouldn’t notice her mistake, as he was the not the person she was seeking.

“You mentioned it earlier…?” She tried to look confused to sell the act, “John Watson, and I said I’m Vivian…” Vivian tilted her head to the side to give the impression of uncertainty. John blinked, twice. She could tell he was already assuming that she right. Humans do not like explainable things.

“Oh right. Wow.” He hit himself on the side of the head to show recognition of his telling Vivian of his name, even though he didn’t recall it at all. “Well, Vivian…” he said her name like a foreign word, a mystery. Who was this mysterious girl who knew his name and didn’t use her umbrella? “Vivian-?” he scratched his head as he looked for the last part of her title.

“Scarlett.”

“Vivian Scarlett. That’s a nice name.” The pair started to walk down the damp streets with the green buildings. “Luckily, we’re not too far away…” John trailed off once again. Vivian could see questions running through his head like cars zipping down a busy street. “Do you live close?” he looked over to her as she tucked a stray curl behind my ear.

“No.” She replied shortly. Vivian couldn’t give away her position- not just yet.  She looked over the street again and noticed something odd. “John.” She put her arm out to stop him suddenly. She looked at the grate in the ground in front of a mint green building.

She could hear the dripping below. “Grates are above sewers... Right?" Vivian asked, looking at him. His blue eyes reflected her cold, red cheeks.

"Yes...?" John said, not really knowing how to respond.

Oh, she thought, of course he was ordinary. Just because he formerly lived with one of the most observant humans in the world, did not mean the trait was passed on.

"Sewers are accessible by 'man holes', am I correct?" Vivian looked to John. His questioningly look made her sigh.

Giving him no time to answer, she continued. "Where are the man holes?"

John squinted through the oncoming dark fog at the street. "Well um..." he hesitated. "that's odd..." he turned and looked down the other way. Vivian watched him and waited for him to conclude that there were no entrances into the sewers, and to turn to her for a question.

Of course, after a few seconds of John revelling at this new information and odd concept of people possibly being trapped in a sewer because of a mistake in construction, he turned to Vivian again and nodded to her in a questioning way.

"How," he stopped nodding, and looked at her with a bizzare look, "how did you notice that?" she shrugged.

This man had not gotten used to observant people had he?

"Aren't you used to it?" Vivian asked. her thick, curly, hair was slightly more fluffy due to the dense fog and rain. Her multicolored eyes shone bright as she questioned John. John stared at her. She smiled, showing a small dimple above the edge of the corner of her lip. She was striking, but in a clever, soft way. Her presence made John want to blab about all sorts of things, but he held it back. He tilted his head to look at her, and waited for her to answer his question.

Vivian shrugged, and turned to the right, once again looking up the wet street. Her face held an empty, yet worried expression. She bit her lip, nervously. Why would there be a grate in the sidewalk with no enterance and no access to the sewers down below? "Maybe the entrance is on another street," John said, interputing her trail of thought.

No, that wasn't it, Vivian thought. The cool drizzle of water pouring down turned into a dumping bucket. Well, she couldn't really investigate in the rain, could she?  Vivian felt guilty as she decided this. She should've looked into it, yet she felt compelled to meet the famous Sherlock Holmes she's had always heard about.

"You're probably right," Vivian said, pushing away the creeping suspicion. John looked satisfied as she pulled out her small umbrella and held it over both of their heads as they walked down the empty street.


End file.
